


Heated Consummation (TOS)

by Gimmemore



Series: The Feisty, Frisky Fireplace Fics [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fireplaces, First Time Bottoming, Gay Sex, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Simultaneous Orgasm, Telepathic Bond, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Mind Melds, With this partner anyway, and the naughty things that happen in front of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmemore/pseuds/Gimmemore
Summary: Blizzards in Iowa were nothing to snub your nose at.  Especially when you had your Vulcan husband with you in a creaky, old farmhouse.  But Jim and Spock found an acceptable way to pass the time.  And stay extremely warm.





	Heated Consummation (TOS)

**Author's Note:**

> From an autumn one-word prompt list. I chose: fireplace
> 
> Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Winters in Iowa were never meant to be endured by Vulcans.  His husband - and gods, that sounded fantastic to finally get to say – was currently entrenched inside the old farmhouse while he chopped more firewood.  They hadn’t counted on there being a blizzard this late in the season, but nature was a fickle beast and did as it pleased.

Jim had been through a few blizzards in his younger days and all he remembered was lots of soup, hot cocoa, and of course, going through cords and cords of firewood.  So, he was out here, chopping away to make sure they had enough to weather the storm.  The old house hadn’t been brought all the way into the 23rd century and of course, the central heating unit decided to start acting up; going “on the fritz” as his grandfather would say.

He felt a tug along the bond.  He smiled, sending back reassurance that he was okay and would be along in a few minutes.  He finished his work, gathering armfuls of the split wood and piling them in the motorized cart he’d brought along.  Once he had a stack teetering, the maximum load likely exceeded, he plugged in the GPS coordinates of the house into the side panel and hit go.  It lumbered along as he followed alongside.

It only took a few minutes, but without the constant swing of the axe warming his muscles, he was chilled by the time he made it back to the house.  The sweat from his exertion dampening his clothes wasn’t helping either.

He and the cart reached the front porch without incident.  Grabbing an armful of firewood for the house, and using deft fingers, he managed to get both the screen door and inner door open.  He dropped the firewood into the u-shaped log rack by the door, stood up, and stopped.

The sight before him was entrancing.  Spock lay sprawled out in front of the fireplace, hands above his head and legs straight out.  He reminded him of a cat, sublime and serene, basking in the warmth of the fire.  And gods, Spock was all long, lean lines of green-tinged skin, beautifully drawn, illuminated by the dancing firelight.

He stepped out of his shoes, threw his gloves in the bin, and pulled off his jacket, reluctantly turning away from the captivating floor display to hang his jacket on a hook to dry.  He had barely secured it, when a startling, powerful pulse of desire reverberated across the bond, causing him to stumble and clutch his lower stomach as the ache settled deep in his pelvis.  He spun around to find his Vulcan very alert and conveying how much he had missed him, and not just across the bond either; the further evidence lengthening and thickening beneath the meditation robes Spock wore.  Apparently, Spock had come up with additional plans for keeping them warm, which Jim wholeheartedly endorsed.

He walked over and knelt beside Spock.  Spock stretched; the languid pose extending his arms and legs, pointing fingers and toes, and arching the small of his back.  Doing so shifted Spock’s robe, revealing a lovely, pale-green thigh.  Jim could not resist and reached out, running one hand from the exposed knee all the way up to where it became hidden beneath the robe. 

Spock hissed at the abrupt change in temperature, scolding him with, “You are chilled.”

Jim eyes crinkled with mirth.  “Hmmmm, true.  But you seemed,” Jim continued, his hand traveling further under the robe to arouse sensitive flesh, “to be offering a very nice way to warm me up.”

Spock made no further comments, solidifying Jim’s assessment with a flirtatious lift of his hips, back arching, while rich, coffee-colored eyes became half-lidded, obscured beneath long, black lashes.  Jim knew what came next, but when Spock’s need streamed into his mind, hurtling across the bond, he jolted, sucking in a ragged breath in surprise.

Their connection was still fairly new, and Jim had not yet gotten used to how…open Spock could be with him within their shared space.  How, now that they were bonded, Spock seldom hid or buried his feelings, wants, or desires.  He treasured it.

Spock spread his legs in further invitation, his right one bumping into Jim, the robe parting even more to reveal the slightest hint of Spock’s cock surrounded by jet-black curls.  Spock murmured, “Disrobe.  Now.”

The order was, perhaps, one of the fastest Jim had ever obeyed, stripping out of his clothes in record time, tossing them away with abandon.  Spock moved, preparing to do the same when Jim ordered, “No.  Leave it on.”  Naked, he knelt back down, this time maneuvering himself between Spock’s legs.  “I want to do it.”

Spock laid back down, removing his hands from the fastenings, leaving them tied, and waited.

Jim began by simply admiring his gorgeous husband; a feast not only for his eyes, but his heart, mind, and soul.  Once he’d gazed his fill (and felt a nudge of impatience along the bond), he began by wrapping his hands around Spock’s ankles, thumbs swirling at the inner divot.  Moving up, he ran his hands up and down Spock’s shins, the friction tingling his palm and fingertips. 

He scooted forward a bit, spreading Spock’s legs further, pushing the robe into a wider V, so it fell on either side of his legs.  Stomach, thighs, and cock now lay bare.  Jim rubbed along Spock’s inner thighs, up over prominent hipbones, tracing thumbs along the peaks, before continuing inward, meeting in the middle alongside Spock’s rapidly filling cock.

Using his palms, Jim applied firm, upward strokes along the underside of Spock’s shaft, pressing and fondling until the engorged tip dripped its first pearled drop.  Spock’s hips lifted, searching for more pressure and friction, only for Jim to go back to caressing other expanses of bared skin.

Over and over he teased, until Spock’s cock glistened, secreting Vulcan lubrication along his shaft.  It was an amazingly useful adaptation, one that Jim continued to be grateful for.  When a small, but distinct huff of frustration blew out across pink lips, Jim knew Spock had endured enough and ceased his maddening torture.

He leaned forward, untying the fastenings of the robe with impressive deftness, and helping Spock shimmy out of it, revealed the rest of Spock’s beautiful body.  He moved to caress the rest of his spouse’s newly exposed skin with the same tormenting attention, but Spock shook his head.

“No more teasing.”  His voice dropped, urgent, softer.  “I want us joined.”

Jim acquiesced.  There would be other times to linger, take Spock apart piece-by-piece, but for now, he would do as his husband asked.  And Jim was nothing, if not a giving lover, though he also needed to make sure Spock was properly prepared. 

To do so, he took the index and middle fingers of his right hand, and with a sly grin, sucked them into his mouth, slicking them with his own spit, pumping them in and out until they were dripping.  He watched as Spock’s eyes dilated, going from warm brown to dark chocolate in an instant.  Jim wasn’t sure it was true of all Vulcans, but his particular Vulcan had a big kink about fingers.

Finished with his little display, he ran his free hand along Spock’s lower stomach while he took his two wet fingers and dragged them down Spock’s perineum to lightly brush against his puckered hole.  Spock barely flinched but Jim felt the small tremor, nonetheless.  So eager.  Pressing and rubbing against the muscle, Jim waited to see just how eager Spock was, how deep his need ran.

Vulcans had the ability to control many of their bodily systems and muscle control was a simple task on the list of things they could do.  In the space of a handful of heartbeats, the verdant ring relaxed significantly, enough to allow both of Jim’s fingers entry.  He thrust lightly, watching Spock for any signs of discomfort.  What he got was something else entirely.  Spock braced himself and bucked up, thrusting Jim’s fingers further inside than he planned.  He felt the slightest resistance before the inner ring gave, fingers slipping deep as his palm collided against Spock.

He watched, mesmerized as Spock fucked himself on his fingers.  Gods, what a beautiful sight.  No Vulcan had ever looked so gorgeous or wanton.  Then, with the same abruptness as he began, Spock stopped, hips in the air, Jim’s fingers buried deep.  Watching Spock’s reaction with rapt attention, Jim curled his fingers, dragging the pads across Spock’s prostate.

Spock gasped.  Chest heaving, he demanded, “Now, _t’hy’la_.  I am ready.”

His own cock twitched, heavy and neglected between his legs, approving of moving to the next stage.  “Are you sure?”

To convey his readiness, Spock clenched around Jim’s fingers still buried inside him.  “Affirmative.”

“Well then, who am I to deny my husband,” he said with a wink, withdrawing his fingers.  Even though he knew Spock could take him and would not complain, he still wanted to make sure that it was as comfortable as possible.  With a mischievous grin, he grasped Spock’s stiff cock, pumping it with the same hand he’d just had inside Spock.  Spock jolted, the quick change in sensation stealing his breath.  Jim made several long, torturous strokes, tip to base and base to tip, gathering all the Vulcan secretion he could, and then palmed himself, spreading it on his own needy cock.

Guiding himself, he placed the engorged head of his cock against Spock’s entrance, pausing to look up and ask for consent one last time.  The answering wave of want crashing against the bond was all the answer he required, and so he pushed forward, opening Spock, stretching him until he was buried fully within his husband.

He leaned forward, arms braced on either side of Spock’s ribs, while Spock adjusted around his length.  Once Spock hitched his legs around his waist and his hands ran along his skin, Jim knew it was time to move.  And move they did.

Hips pumped and bucked and ground against each other.  Kisses that started soft and sweet turned hard and urgent as they built upon their connection.  Breaths became pants, punches of air leaving their lungs, as Jim’s forceful thrusts rocked them both.  When he sensed they were both close to climax, Jim leaned back, intending to take care of Spock’s neglected cock, pumping him with his hand in time with the thrusts into his body.

But he never got to reach for his husband for his mind exploded with the sudden onslaught of vivid, erotically detailed images flashing across the bond.  In the same breath-stealing blitz that they appeared, they were yanked back and the bond shuttered, but not before embarrassment and apprehension spilled through, emanating from Spock.

Jim stilled, taking a few moments to orient himself.  He tried to make eye contact, but Spock had turned his head towards the flickering flames in avoidance.  “Spock?”  No answer.  “Spock.  Look at me, please.”  He pushed the same words across the bond, along with understanding and love, shoving hard against the shields Spock erected in haste between them.

His husband turned to him slowly, dark green painting his cheeks and ears in apparent mortification.  Jim knew he needed to be careful.  Though Spock was more open with him than any other, there were still things that Spock thought made him less, flawed, unworthy.  And Jim would not have it.

He comforted him with words in his own native Vulcan first.  “ _Ashal-veh.  Adun.  T’hy’la._ Do not be ashamed of your desires.  _Ever_.”  Jim smiled, soft and warm, bringing his fingers to caress sharp cheekbones, then down a strong jaw and across perfect, pink lips.  “You should know by now, I am game for trying anything.  Especially with you.  You need only ask.”

He waited, knowing patience was vital.  Spock said nothing, but bit at his lower lip as he contemplated Jim’s offer.  The green of Spock’s ears and cheeks deepened as the bond reopened and with it, one particular image resurfaced, projecting loud and clear.

“Is that what you want?” Jim prodded.

Had it not been for the sudden, unexpected silence of the creaky old house, Jim would’ve missed Spock’s soft spoken, “Yes.”

Jim beamed.  “Well, then.  Let’s see what we can do about that.”  He eased himself from Spock, the loss of their physical connection eased by their constant mental one.  Jim contemplated the easiest way to accomplish a good experience for them both.  It wasn’t that he’d never done this, just that it had been a long, long time since he’d trusted someone enough to be that vulnerable, open, and exposed.

As he pondered his next move, he trailed his hand down Spock’s neck and across his collarbone, scraped nails down his pecs through black hair, and pressed his palm flat, dragging it down Spock’s stomach, traveling along a well-laid trail which pointed straight to a semi-hard, double-ridged cock.  He took that same hand and began to stroke his husband’s cock, making it swell, hard and full once again, as Vulcan fingers flexed back and forth on the floor, searching for a hold.  Hips twitched, lifting in time to Jim’s ministrations.

It was then Jim knew what his next move would be.  Determined, Jim pumped Spock until his shaft leaked copious amounts of precum and was slippery with Vulcan secretions.  He again stripped Spock’s rigid length, gathering the lubrication on his fingers before he made eye contact with Spock and commanded, “Watch me.”

He leaned over Spock, propping himself up on one arm, bringing his legs over Spock’s hips, straddling him, while the other hand, coated in slickness, reached back, finding his own entrance.  Just as he had with Spock, he nudged and pressed, inserting one, then two fingers, rocking back on them, scissoring them inside him.  He stretched himself quickly with two fingers --- just enough to make sure he wouldn’t be hurt or tear --- but not enough that he wouldn’t be reminded of exactly what they’d done in the coming days.  And he wanted to be reminded.  To know Spock had been inside him, in every way, like no one else ever had.  Or ever would.

They locked eyes, gazes never wavering, as Jim fingered himself open, both of them panting in anticipation.  When he was ready for more, he withdrew his fingers and without missing a beat, grabbed his husband’s cock, lined up, and sank down.

Though his pace was slow and measured, Spock’s eyes went wide, sucking in a breath across parted lips as Jim’s body drew his cock deeper and deeper into his body.  Jim focused on Spock --- the hitch in his breath, the twitch of his fingers, the quiver of his muscles --- to ensure he was enjoying every moment.  He also watched as eyes grew dark and pupils widened, swallowing all color until only a thin outer ring of brown remained.

Only then did Jim closed his eyes, concentrating on taking Spock, memorizing the first stretch of his body around his husband.  When his internal muscles protested, clenching and spasming at the forgotten pleasure-pain of being opened, he thought maybe he’d gone a little too fast, but he pushed through it, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs when he bottomed out, his ass resting on protruding hips.  He opened his eyes to see Spock staring, enthralled.

Jim smiled coyly, and without giving any warning, tested their new physical connection with a sharp forward thrust of his hips, grinding himself against Spock and squeezing his inner walls tight.

Spock’s hands flew to Jim’s hips, scrabbling for purchase, as he cried out, “Jim!”

Jim didn’t stop there.  He pulled up a few inches and sank back down.  He sighed.  His body accepted Spock, just as his heart and mind and soul already had.  Over and over he worked his husband inside him with indulgence, watching Spock come apart beneath him, the hands at his hips trembling and tensing with mounting need and desire.

After a particularly hard undulation of his hips, Spock’s whole body shook.  He gripped Jim’s hips tight, fingers digging in so hard Jim knew he’d wear the bruises for days.  Spock held them still, not allowing Jim to move, staring at him.  He’d worked himself on his husband’s cock until the exertion had colored his skin pink and covered it in a light sheen of salty sweat.

“You are so beautiful, my James.”  One of Spock’s hands trailed up his side, across his ribs, over his heart, and up to cup his cheek.  “It is as if a setting sun glows from beneath your skin, painting it in deep reds and pinks.”

Jim blushed.  He knew he was attractive.  Had used it to his advantage many times.  But having his Vulcan professing his beauty while buried inside him?  A deliriously pleased feeling rushed through him.

They took a few moments to relish in their happiness, their connectedness, their adoration of each other, before Spock, emboldened by Jim’s response to his flattery, grasped his hips and thrust hard inside him, burying deeper than Jim thought possible. 

Jim threw his head back, arching his spine.  “Fuck, that felt good.  Do that again.”

Their lovemaking escalated into hard, rapid thrusts, Jim riding Spock with unrelenting fervor, while he was fucked into with equal enthusiasm.  Spock shifted, widening his legs so he could plant his feet on the floor.  The change in the strength and angle of Spock’s thrusts had the double-ridge of his cock rubbing back and forth across Jim’s prostate; the battering sending electric shocks to build upon the increasing pressure in the pit of his pelvis, until it felt like another jolt would cause him to shatter.

“Gods, Spock.  I’m so close.”  Jim grabbed his cock, swollen and red from a long-denied climax, and started stroking, matching their rhythm as he fucked down onto Spock’s cock.

Spock acknowledged his words with one hand rising to his face again, only this time, with fingers spread and lining up along Jim’s psi points.  Jim nodded.  In the next breath, their worlds combined and exploded in a myriad of colors; Jim not only felt himself impaled on Spock but also felt himself surrounded by his tight, wet heat, all mixing together in a fusing of experiences that drove them over the precipice.

Jim shouted, bowing his back, coming in forceful pulses over his hand, painting Spock’s chest and stomach in his release, while his channel, stretched and full of his husband, clenched down, muscles spasming in time with the throbbing of his cock.

Spock pulled him down harder, burying himself, grinding their hips into each other as he rode out Jim’s orgasm before his body went taut and stilled, coming deep inside Jim.  Jim collapsed onto Spock, spent in more ways than one.  

Once the high of their combined orgasms subsided, he lifted his head to peer at Spock.  His eyes were still closed in ecstasy, a small Vulcan smile tilting the corner of his mouth.  Jim couldn’t help it, he broke into laughter, chuckling harder as Spock opened one eye, eyebrow arched with feigned aggravation at ruining the moment of blissful tranquility.

“Well you certainly look pleased.”  Gentle amusement and affection floated back and forth along the bond.  “Of course,” Jim teased, “the cat who gets the cream usually does.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor am I profiting from this in any way. I am merely playing with the characters for enjoyment's sake.


End file.
